


Mad Maggie Mina

by Desiderii



Category: Black Jewels - Anne Bishop
Genre: Bad Poetry, Gen, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-11
Updated: 2012-08-11
Packaged: 2017-11-11 21:17:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/482978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desiderii/pseuds/Desiderii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mad Maggie Mina from Emaulton Drake steals dreams from the heart for the Darkness's sake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mad Maggie Mina

**Author's Note:**

> I nearly lost this poem set in the Black Jewels universe last time I upgraded my computer and just about died. Since it IS technically fanfic, I'm uploading it here so I don't lose it again. It's terrible, I know, and I'm very sorry.

Old Mad Maggie Mina from Emaulton Drake  
Steals dreams from the heart for the Darkness’s sake.

With a den full of poison and a house full of webbing,  
She keeps captive the desires of those with life ebbing. 

In jars on her shelves, she holds tight to lost dreams  
Of men, women and children to use in her schemes. 

The shadowed house on the hill lurks at forest edge  
With gables of sable and a high forbidding hedge. 

There a path to the gate lined with dread, toothy plants  
The knocker leers back from the door to the manse. 

After minutes of waiting and shuffling your feet  
The door will spring open and Mad Maggie you’ll meet. 

With pleasant mien and a kind word for you  
Maggie will offer tea and ask ‘One lump? Or Two?’

Only after you eat of her muffins or scones  
Talk of payment come in, to send chill through your bones

‘A dream!’ She’ll declare, ‘Or better still’  
‘Your darkest desire, or perhaps a bit of your will.’ 

Trapped at the table, it seems she’s taken already  
The will to flee, to scream, or your way to think steady

‘Just a dream, one or two, of your fondest wish’  
‘Your fortune to tell, an exchange for served dish.’

‘I miss company,’ She’ll say, slight smile all the while  
Until you promise to return without worry, lie or guile.

Then she’ll reach into your heard with a long-fingered nail  
And drive hooks into your soul, agony to death pale 

A moment is all and then she is done and despite qualm  
Your dreams and desires then glow quietly in her palm

Left empty and reeling she feeds you more pastry  
Let sugar forget your decision rank hasty. 

‘The future,’ she smiles with a delicate heft  
of the motes of your being of which you’re bereft.

A snap of her fingers and a wiggle of her nose,  
A frame filled with silk thread, beads, and a rose

Appears at the table where shadow still cling  
For your memories to rest and a soft song to sing.

With the threads bright suffused she brings out her snippers  
And eyes the small web to threaten strings with the clippers

A snick here, and snip there, and your future complete  
Mad Maggie smiles at you, deceptively sweet

‘Your life is a tangle.’ She says with delight  
‘If you go home right now you’ll survive the night.’ 

Protests forgotten in lieu of the warning,  
You leave with your hopes to awaken at morning.

Despite life continued, and routine still  
Dreams left behind in the house on the hill

A brush with the Darkness, mysteries ancient and rare  
And a skill with Craft that would curl your hair

Old Maggie keeps to herself in her dark, silent home  
And what little we know lies in this very tome

So while hopes and dreams may be easy to make  
Stay wary of Old Mad Maggie of Emaulton Drake


End file.
